Chained
by KittyinShadows
Summary: When Fi overenthusiastically demonstrates her newest treasure on Marshall an Gumball, they get cuffed together until she can find the key. And although Marshall hates it, it makes him realize some things... Warning: MalexMale, references to certain themes.


**A/N: Because I was supposed to post a chapter of my Percico thingy, but inspiration is fickle and I have bad work ethic. So I wrote Jasico smut, and am posting Gumlee oneshot. And okay, this is an entirely different fandom, but this _is_ my OTP. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy. :)**

 **Warning: MalexMale**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Adventure Time.**

* * *

Chained

Marshall's POV

I'm not sure why I'm here. All I know is that ten minutes ago I got a call from a loud Fionna saying to get over here now, _now_ , NOW. So I immediately hung up the phone and flew over here, and zoomed through an open window…to see an excited Fi, napping Cake, and an exasperated Prince Gumball. "Fi?" I asked in confusion. "What's wrong? On the phone you sounded like it was an emergency."

When Fi sees me she squeals, hopping up and down more until she's bouncing in front of me. "It _is_ an emergency!" Gumwad rolls his eyes.

"What's Gumwad doing here?" I ask softly, purposefully leaning into her space to freak him out.

"Huh?" she glances at him. "Oh! I had to show him this!" She shoves something into my face. It looks like two metal ring connected with a thin metal chain. It seems familiar, and hints at times that few things do, pre-Mushroom War. But I couldn't—or wouldn't—put a finger on it.

"What is it?" I ask.

"They're handcuffs!" she exclaims. "Me 'n Cake found 'em exploring an old city! They were used before the Mushroom Wars to restrain criminals! Gumball told me about them! He says they're like an ancient version of ball and chains! Isn't it cool?!" I grin and nod in agreement. Then I turn to look at Gumwad.

"How do you know about them anyways, Gum-Gum?" I interrogate. Hearing this, the prince blushes brightly, telling me something is up. Fi perks up; she obviously hadn't thought to ask this.

"I—um—I have a pair," he says curtly. This only makes me and Fi more intent.

"Why?" I ask, floating to be right in front of him. His blush gets brighter and his eyes start darting around for escape.

"I—um—that is—er—"

"Yeah, Gumball, you don't need a pair of handcuffs. You're never around criminals," Fi adds, clearly intrigued.

"I—ah—well—there are…other uses for them."

"What?" Fi and I ask in unison. At this point the wad's cheeks are so red I almost want a taste. He coughs and looks anywhere but at us, poor little wad.

"Oh you know. _Things_." He looks at me and raises his eyebrows suggestively and nods harshly at Fi. I'm trying to puzzle out why he won't say in front of her when it dawns on me.

"Oh. _OH_! Oh my Glob! Gumball! Dude! You—" I shake my head to try to get the images out. That pink little pervert. "Fi, leave Gumbutt alone. He's got lots of stuff. Tell me more about your thing."

She gives me a curious look but lets it go. She starts to babble on about how she found it, things she killed, on and on—I'll admit I zoned out a little. Really, Fionna's great, but sometimes…and it doesn't help that now I've got terrifying images of Gumball plaguing my mind. I'm brought back to reality when I hear a click. "And you open them like this," she demonstrates, breaking the shiny rings open. "And close them like this." Suddenly she closes one cuff on my right wrist and the other on Gumball's left.

"Fi!" I shout. "Ok, now take it off." I yank foolishly, and Gumwad is pulled forward so he falls into me with a yell. Now I'm blushing, 'cause I'm cuffed to this freaky little perv, and I just can't stop thinking.

"Alright!" Fi seems surprised by my outburst. I'm usually the cool one. "Here." She takes my wrist and pulls on the ring, but it doesn't open.

"Ha-ha, Fi," says Gumball. "Very funny. Now where's the key?" he sits back onto his seat.

She blinks. "Key?" she says, staring blankly.

"You don't have a key, do you." It's a statement, not a question. He sighs, resting his face in his palms, pulling me forward to float above his head. My mind is racing ahead, to the next foreseeable amount of time with us chained to each other. I'll have to go home with this gummy thing. We'll have to sleep in the same bed! I push down the urge to start yanking again.

"Uh, no. I didn't think they needed a key." Gumball just sighs again.

"Of course you need a key, Fi. They wouldn't be much good at chaining people up if you could just _open_ them. Wake up Cake, maybe she can use her key-hand." Fi laughs sheepishly and goes to wake her up. Cake looks at us and shakes her head. "Cake? Perhaps you could help us out?"

Cake comes over and starts shifting her hand. "Maybe, sweeties. I'll try." She inserts her paw into the keyhole and gets a concentrated look on her face. Finally she shakes her head. "Sorry babies, but it's too small. Y'all will hafta find another way." That's when I start to yank.

"Oww!" Gummy shouts. I keep pulling on them. "Marshall, stop!" When I ignore him he grabs my hip and pulls me down.

"Let me go perv!" I yell and shove him.

Gumball glares at me. "Marshall, it won't work. Vampire strength won't do anything if you're chained to someone not as strong. It won't break the chain, but it might cut my hand off."

I yank again. "I'm fine with that."

"Marshall!" the three of them shout. I stop and slump onto the bench next to Gumbutt. "This is so not good."

"You're telling me," Gumball mutters. "Okay. So I can see three easy solutions. One," he ticks them off on his fingers, "Fi and Cake go back to where they found the cuffs and find the key. Two, we get a locksmith to make another key. Three, I make a solution in my lab to dissolve the cuffs." Of course the great Prince Gumball has already thought of a way to fix the problem. I shouldn't have even bothered worrying. He knows how to get out of this. _I'm_ not someone he wants to be cuffed to. "Now, Fi and Cake, you should _definitely_ go look. Unfortunately, there may not be a key, and if there is you may not easily find it. If we get a locksmith it'll take _at least_ a week, if not more, but it won't destroy them, so that's good. The solution would probably take less time, but it would destroy them, and it would only break the chain, not get them off. So I would suggest that Fi and Cake go, and we have a locksmith make a key. However we try to fix it, though, we will be stuck together for some time. We should go back to the palace and figure out what to do."

"Not like I got a choice," I snap. Gumball gives me a look that's almost…sad? The others talk for a bit more and then we leave, him walking, me floating. I stay as far away from him as I can get. It's night so I don't have to cover up or anything.

"This would be quicker if you just flew us," he points out.

"No!" I immediately react. I try to ward away visions of holding this freak in my arms. "You would like that wouldn't you?"

Gumball gives me a weird look. "Why are you acting like this?" he asks.

I look away. "I just…I cannot believe you have a pair of these!"

Gumball laughed a little. "Glob, Marshall, you act like you thought I was a virgin or something!"

I choke when he says virgin. Gumball doesn't acknowledge sex. He's sweet and innocent. "Maybe I did!"

He laughs even more. "Oh, come on! Marshall, you realize I'm like a thousand years old."

I blink rapidly, trying to find an answer. "I—um—yes? I mean, sorta."

He shakes his head, giggling under his breath. "Yeah, well, you can't exactly get to be a thousand years old and be a virgin."

"Well you act like it!" I shout.

He rolls his eyes. "Of course I act like it. My age is not a very well-known fact. My people want a sweet, innocent, virgin prince and that's what I give them."

"But why handcuffs?! Can't you just have normal sex?!"

He looks at me and raises an eyebrow. I have never seen this side of Gumball before. It scares me. I guess he thinks that now that I know about him he doesn't need to act. "Marshall, you of all people should know that after a thousand years 'just sex' gets old. Unless you've got someone special, but I've never had that." The way he says the last part is so sad sounding that I decide to drop it.

* * *

We get to the Candy Kingdom and receive many curious looks. When we walk into the Grand Hall of the palace Peppermint Maid looks at our wrists, then at my face, then at Gumball's face, seeming completely unsurprised as she asks, "Your Highness? Should I—"

"NO! No, no, that is unnecessary Pepper. We must make arrangements for Marshall to stay here for a time. Fionna found these and decided to demonstrate, not realizing she needed a key. That is all. Now, if you would please prepare lunch, Marshall and I must discuss some things."

The candy person hesitates, but says, "Yes, Your Highness," before scurrying off.

"Come along," he says to me before dragging me to an empty meeting room. We sit down and he turns to look at me. "I think we both know that you will have to sacrifice more for this situation than I will."

I sigh. "Yeah."

"I will try to make this more convenient for you, but the fact is I'm an acting prince. I have jobs, responsibilities, and you're going to have to deal with that. We will be staying here, working most of the day, sleeping most of the night. I will drag you all around the kingdom. It is what it is. Is there anything in your schedule I should know about?"

I nod. "Yeah. I've got a few parties and concerts I'm supposed to be playing at."

"When?" he asks and takes out a pen and pad of paper from some hidden pocket.

"Tomorrow night, about this time, and another two nights after that at midnight."

He nods. "Alright. We should probably go get whatever you need from your house right now."

He stands, hauling me up with him. Then he makes his way through a bunch of rooms and halls until we're outside. He turns and puts his arms around my neck. My eyes go wide. "What are you doing?!" I gasp and push him, which only makes us both fall on our asses.

"I am tired and I want to just go to bed already. There is absolutely no way we are walking to your house. You will fly us. Get the lump over it."

He stands us up and repeats his actions. I blush and do as he said.

* * *

An hour later we land on his balcony with a bag of clothes, an axe guitar, and a zombie cat named Schwabelle. I won't even go into it. I drop the bag and set her, the guitar and Gumwad down. Poor, perverted little Gumball is obviously up past his bedtime, as he immediately strips and falls onto his bed in just his boxers.

"Gummy?" I say, floating above him.

"Mmbleagg…" he moans, clearly already asleep.

"Oookaay." Slowly, carefully, I take off my shirt and pants, chucking them to the wall where Schwabelle lays on them, occasionally casting wary glances at the large pink canopied bed. Now knowing what I do I'm seeing that bed very differently. I can't help but imagine Gumball cuffed to the bedpost. For some reason that excites me.

I lay down on the other side of the bed, but I can't sleep. For me it's the middle of the day. _This is going to end badly_ , I think as I force my eyes closed.

* * *

 _I was right_ , is the first thing I think when I wake up. Well, right after, _where the glob am I_ , and, _what the hell is laying on me_. When I open my eyes I see Gumball. His face is buried in my neck, our arms are around each other, and our legs are intertwined. He is a warm weight on top of me, both smothering and comforting. I suddenly realize he's bigger than me. Not by much; he's just a few inches taller and a few pounds heavier. But still.

"Gumball." I wiggle a bit to try to get him up. He moans and nuzzles his face deeper into my neck, warm breath on my skin causing me to shiver. "Gumball," I say, surprisingly breathless.

"Mmm," he says (if you can call it that), and from his breathing I can tell that he's waking up. He lifts his head and looks at me. He blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he figures it out. "Oh, _shit_!" he exclaims and shoves himself off of me and the bed, but because of these stupid cuffs it only causes us to both fall to the ground in a tangle. "Oww," he says. "Would you get off of me?" Now I'm sitting on him. I float up as far as I can.

"So that was smart," is what I say.

"Shut up." He stands and starts to stretch out. I make myself look away. He's very pink. When was the last time I ate?

"I'm hungry," I say.

He stops for a moment to give me a droll look. "So?"

"Let me rephrase that. You are starting to look appetizing." For emphasis I lick my lips and eye his neck. His eyes go wide and, for a moment, it almost seems like he will tip his head for better access. But he doesn't. I'm kinda disappointed.

"Well, then, let's get you something to eat." He claps his hands and almost immediately Peppermint Maid opens the door. With an unconcerned expression she looks at the bundle of blankets now on the floor, then at Gumball, who's now rubbing his butt, then at me licking my lips, and then back to Gumball.

"Sir? Should I—"

"No!" he interrupts and laughs nervously, darting glances at me. "No, thank you, Pepper. Could you tell the chefs to have something red at breakfast? Thank you. That is all."

She curtsies in that ridiculous maid dress of hers (Seriously! _Why?_ She's made of lumping candy!) and says, "Yes, Your Highness. And sir, it's lunch now." She leaves.

"There," he declares. "Problem solved." Without a glance back he goes to his wardrobe and picks out one of dozens of perfect pink outfits. I grab some clothes out of my bag.

The first thing he does is slip out of his boxers and I can't help but look. His back is turned so I get a perfect view of his firm gummy butt. I wonder…No! Bad! What are you doing! Don't! I take a quick step back, which trips the prince who is on one leg stepping into new underwear. He falls back into me, so all of his back is pressed to my chest, my arm stuck in between us. "Marshall! What the lumps!" To cover up my nerves I snicker.

"Having fun Your Majesty?" I tease. He blushes insanely bright pink and gets off of me. We finish dressing in silence. And when he's closing the wardrobe I see it.

A flash of black. "What's that?" I ask darting forward. I pull out a well-worn black concert-T. It's familiar, because, "I gave this to you."

"Yeah," he replies. He looks straight into my eyes. There's something there that scares me. I look away and don't mention it again.

* * *

Breakfast is amazing. It's practically a feast and it's only for two people. There are bowls and bowls of red fruits, apples, strawberries, grapes, raspberries. There's blood sausage, strawberry pancakes, cherry jam, cranberry juice…there's even more food that _isn't_ red. But lemme tell you, best meal I've had in a _long_ time.

The rest of the day…not so great. The key word in that is _day_. It's daytime. And while all the shutters and curtains are closed every now and then just enough sunlight gets in to make me cower behind Gumball until it's gone. I don't like it. Of course, I'm dead tired, but he's never _sitting_ long enough for me to take a _nap_. And _glob_ , all the work he's gotta do. I never realized how busy he was. Meetings, meetings, meetings. Meetings with ambassadors, meetings with staff, meetings with press, meetings with guards, meetings with blah, _blah,_ BLAH. Sign contracts, sign laws, write laws, check on the banana guards, discuss taxes, approve a new dinner menu, plan another ball, Cinnamon Buns set something on fire again (Again? _Again?!_ How often does this happen?!), and meet the _fucking_ orphans. Not to mention that somehow, in the middle of _all_ that, he has time to research the new flu outbreak, bake two batches of red-velvet cupcakes, and meet with the locksmith. And somehow he has time for a social life. What's more, I have the feeling that he usually does more and is slowing down for me. Maybe I'll cut down on my pranking him.

It is interesting to watch him act the part of the prince now that I know he's not actually like that. Every word he speaks, every smile he gives, I have to wonder if it's real, what he's thinking as he does it.

Dinner (he calls it supper. WTF.) is much like breakfast. Then we're heading up to his room and for some reason I'm breathing faster. Inside, he leads me to his bathroom (I haven't used a drop of energy today, just floated while he towed me along.). "Come on," he says with a smile. "You need a shower." Suddenly my breathing stops altogether. Oh, my glob. Did Prince B. Gumball just give me a come-hither smile? I blink a few times, and when I open my eyes it's just a smile, and there is no hidden meaning. I'm an idiot. "Marshall? You should get a shower before your concert tonight." _Concert?_ I think. What concert—oh! I have to play at that party tonight.

Showering is uncomfortable at best. He stands just outside the curtain with one hand inside. I have to clean myself one-handed or else risk him brushing against my wet skin. A few times I almost say something. I don't know what, just that I'm both glad and disappointed I don't say it. It becomes even more uncomfortable when he reaches in and pinches my butt. "Ack!" I squeak. "What the lumps?!"

He snickers much like I did that morning. "Sorry, I just couldn't resist."

When I'm done he hands me a towel and clothes, and that's uncomfortable, too. Then we switch and he takes a shower. I don't have the guts to pinch him back.

* * *

We don't speak of it on the way to the party. We don't speak of anything on the way to the party. We fly above a forest, guitar on my back, prince on my front. We land and now _I'm_ the one leading. I float in lazily on my back, occasionally strumming on my guitar, and that weird little prince is forced to trail along beside me.

We break through the trees and come into a clearing, where dozens of people of all shapes, colors, and sizes are dancing, whether bobbing up and down, grinding, or doing an actual dance. "Looks like fun," I remark, before moving into the crowd, when Gumball abruptly digs in his feet, yanking me backward. "Ack! What do you think you're doing Gumwad?"

"Marshall Lee! I shouldn't be here! This is no place for a prince!" Oh. So that's it. He's just being a stuck-up little priss.

"Sure it is! See, LSP is here and he's a prince!" I point with my other hand to the dancing purple lump.

Gumwad's eyes follow my finger, then turn back to me with an exasperated glare, "…" He doesn't even have to say anything, because I burst out laughing on my own.

"Ha ha ha. Nah, I—hahaha! Don't—pfft. Don't worry 'bout it—hehe—Gum-Gum." I sweep closer so I'm in my face and he freezes. He must think I'm gonna bite him or something. "Don't worry, I won't let them get you, sweet little gummy prince." I drift away from him; he sighs in relief. _Because your mine_ , I think in addition to my comment, and then flinch 'cause I don't know where that came from.

"If anything bad happens to me it'll be your fault, Marshall," he says seriously. _I swear nothing will,_ I think with an outward shrug.

We start back into the crowd, me once again leading. Soon people take notice of me, calling out and shouting for a song. Most of them are too intoxicated to notice I'm cuffed to anybody, let alone the Prince of the Candy Kingdom, and the rest don't bother to look past the cuff to see _who_ I'm chained to—not like its unusual or anything.

I work my way through the crowd to the make-shift stage and float up, Gumball climbing on after me. I lean back and start strumming on my axe guitar. It's a little uncomfortable, what with Gumball standing beside me and holding his arm out, but he's just gonna have to deal with it like I've dealt with all his royal _crap_. The partiers take notice, turn off the boom-box, and give me their attention. I play a few songs, some dark and creepy, some sweet and melodic, some fast and energetic. I occasionally glance at Gumball, who's blushing deeply (Mmm), I guess he's got stage-fright. So I add in a lullaby of sorts, hoping it'll calm him down. Apparently it didn't work, 'cause when I look at him again he's blushing more.

I finish and take a bow; everyone screams for an encore. Normally I would, but it kinda looks like Gummy's gonna faint. I lead him off the stage, and in moment the parasites have got the radio going again and are dancing. We stay by the stage where it's a bit thinner. I set a hand on his shoulder and notice he's shaking a bit. I don't mention it. "So what'd you think? A genuine Marshall Lee concert, best seat in the house." The blush eases, and his body relaxes a bit.

"I wouldn't call them seats," he mutters with a giggle. His demeanor turns serious. "You have a beautiful voice, Marshall Lee." My stomach twists. I'm not sure why. I've heard things like that before. I've heard that _exact_ thing before, many times. But somehow from him it's different. I try to ignore it.

I float up above the crowd, closing my eyes and listening to the crappy music. Gummy stands awkwardly below me. I hear a familiar voice call, "Hey!" I open my eyes to see a ghost girl I know heading toward me. What's her name? I think she's been going by Lilith lately. She gets closer and I realize that she's not heading for me, she's heading for Gummy. What could Gummy have to do with Lilith? This chic is hardcore. She's not the kind of person a prince knows, and she was even worse a few hundred years back before she dies, back when she had a body to drink, smoke, and fuck anything that breathes.

"Hey!" she stops in front of Gumball, who looks at her with a slightly confused look. I think it's real, but I'm not sure.

"Pardon me, but do I know you?" he asks ever polite, even to a slutty ghost.

"Yeah, you're Prince Gumball. Never thought I'd see you here! I knew you a few hundred years ago." He blinks in recognition. How could they _possibly_ know each other? That was back when she was alive, I think. No way would they know each other. Unless…oh.

"Ah, yes, you're Kenna."

She flips her transparent hair. "I go by Lilith now. But yeah. I see you're up to no good again. Who's our dirty little prince caught this time?" she laughs and looks up to see me. Her transparent jaw literally drops, eyes nearly popping out. I'm close to panicking, I do not need her spreading this around my crowd, but Gummy's all calm. "Oh. My. Glob….Damn, Gumball, I didn't think you had it in you."

No no no. She thinks we're…I can't even think the word. "NO, it's—wait, it isn't like—" Gumball cuts off my panicked denial.

With complete calm he says to her, "You caught us. Let's keep this between us, yeah? I have a reputation, after all." She looks at him to see a polite, uncaring smile. When she looks at me again I can see the excitement in her eyes at the prospect of keeping a royal secret. She nods eagerly and floats away. He looks at me with the same smile on his face. "Maybe it's time we go, before we have a repeat, hmm?" I nod numbly and swoop down to pick him up by the waist. On our way out he winks at what's-her-name. I don't even…who is this guy?

* * *

The next week is a lot like that first day. Mornings are awkward. Showers are more awkward. Breakfast is great, days are boring and tired, and evenings are spent ignoring each other. I have another concert, where I show up, sing, and leave as soon as possible. It's a good thing vampires don't need much sleep, because most of the nights are spent with me lying awake, trying to ignore the soft, warm breathing beside me. The longer we're chained together, the more we figure out how we can and cannot move, and incidents of one of us tripping into the other are coming less and less every day, which only makes the ones that do happen even more tense.

I can't wait to get away from this guy. He makes me feel weird. Pervert.

A week after Fi chained us together, Prince B. Gumball has another one of his fantabulous parties. The ball room is decked out in party decorations, he gets a new identical outfit made, and hundreds of illustrious guests are invited.

Fionna and Cake haven't found the key, the locksmith is still working on one, and Gumball hasn't had any time to make a solution to melt the damn things. So for the party Gumball coats the things in sparkly pink rock candy and actually has the _nerve_ to ask me to turn invisible during his speech. "Why should I?" I ask with a sneer.

He cocks his head, which makes that vein in his neck stand out more. I resist the urge to lick my lips. "So you actually _want_ to stand behind me wearing a pink rock-candy bracelet while I give a boring speech?" He's got me there.

"Umm."

"You can be visible for the rest of the party, just not that part. Is that okay?"

I'm surprised he's even asking. He's the prince, can't he just order me? "Yeah," I sigh. He smiles, a genuine smile, which makes it hard to breathe.

Soon it's time for the party. He dresses up. I don't. When we come into the ballroom it's already filled with people, and more are coming in. Music is playing, alternating between waltz' and pop-dance songs. The walls are lined with tables of food. I spot Fi in the crowd dancing with Flame Prince.

Gumwad greets people and mingles for a while, and I convince him to let me dance. Then it's time for the speech. We go up onto the stage and I turn invisible. "Hello, everyone," he says into the microphone and the guests give him their attention. "I would like to—" suddenly the huge doors bang open. The sound startles me and I lose my invisibility. Nobody notices though, because they're all staring at the figure in the door. My mother.

"Marshall!" she calls, searching the room for me. I instantly shift into a bat to avoid detection. "Marshall, I know you're here! Come out! If you don't then I'll be forced to eat all these sweet little candy-things."

"Excuse me," Gumball says, sounding perfectly composed. "But may I ask why you're crashing my party and threatening my guests?"

"Hmm?" she sounds like she didn't notice him before. She looks at him and says, "Oh. Well he was supposed to call me two days ago and he didn't. He promised the last time he visited that h would keep calling me. If I let him get away with this now, then he'll never call!" Seriously? She ruined Gummy's party because I forgot to call? Jeez, mom.

Apparently Gumball feels the same way. "Well, did you try calling him?" he asks with scorn.

"Yes!" mom exclaims. "But he didn't answer and all my sources say he's here. So, come out Marshy!" I don't even know. What am I supposed to do about this?

"I see. If I see him then I'll tell him to call you. Now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

Mom sneers at him. "Are you gonna make me?" she hisses. Just then Peppermint Maid jumps from somewhere to hold a cross up to mom.

"Be gone, demon!" she cries.

Mom looks at the candy-woman and scowls. "One of these days, Peppermint Maid," she growls before turning and leaving. Everyone sighs in relief.

"I apologize for this, friends. But I'm afraid we will have to cancel the rest of the party." The disappointed crowd grumbles and moans, and begins to flow out the still-open doors.

Gumball turns and looks at me, where I'm now sitting on the floor. I look up at him. Then we both look at the cuffs, which my little bat-wrist had slipped out of. "Why didn't you think of this earlier?" he asks me.

I shift back into human form, stand, and stick a finger in his face. "Why didn't _you_ think of this, huh? You're supposed to be the smart one."

For a moment he stares at me, as though thinking of an answer, before he says, "I'm sorry I'm not _perfect,_ Marshall Lee. I can't always think of everything. I am rather busy, you know."

I feel myself blush. For some reason that hurt my feelings. Which makes no sense, 'cause that wasn't even an insult, and besides it was true. "Yeah," my voice sounds harsh and scratchy. I fly out the doors with the rest of the party.

* * *

When I wake up I'm alone. It takes me a second to realize that I'm at home floating above my bed.

After I left him standing on the stage I'd flown up to his bedroom and took my stuff back.

It feels nice to be alone. I think. I mean, of course it does right? I've got my bed to myself, I don't have to actually lay on it, there's no awkward waking up to being entangled with him. I can get up whenever I want, sleep during the day like I'm supposed to, and my house is completely devoid of any scary images or memories of a certain prince.

I'm free now. That's awesome, right? If I want I can play guitar, if I want I can take a nap, I can eat whenever I'm hungry. I don't have to spend any time with that perv. Life is good.

I do miss that breakfast spread a bit. And for all that it was a pink bed with a guy in it, that bed was really soft and comfy. And I guess the Candy Kingdom is somewhat better smelling than my musty cave-house. And some of the times it was kinda nice hanging with Gumbutt. But that's all. I'm glad to be away from him. This is awesome.

Yeah. Not lonely at all. Yeah…

* * *

Gumball's POV

When I wake up I'm alone. Always. The bed is empty but for me, and cold. For the first time in a week when I wake my legs are not entwined with his, and his arms are not around me. I'm alone. As always. My eyes land on my wrist and trail along the cuff to where Marshall is not. Alone.

I should get up. I have a lot to do, a lot I put off to spend time with him. But…alone. _Get up_ , I tell myself. _If you're around people you won't be alone_. Except, compared to Marshall everyone is just…a mockery. So I don't get up.

Pepper knocks a few times, asking if I'm alright, because she knows what it's like for me, but when I don't answer she eventually leaves. I'm being completely ridiculous. I just can't seem to get up. He's gone. He won't come back. No one ever does.

Useless. Pathetic. Unwanted. Alone.

I keep thinking about what he said. _"Why didn't you think of this, huh? You're supposed to be the smart one."_ I think about what I said, angry and defensive, when I really wanted to say, "I did think of it, but I didn't tell you because I wanted to spend time with you. Because…I love you." I guess it's good that I didn't. That would've scared him away for sure. At least now we can still be fr—

Friends. We can be _friends_.

I hate that word. That voice stops trying to get me up. All the things he's said in the last week swirl around my head. _Let me go perv! Can't you just have normal sex?! What are you doing?!_ _Let me rephrase that. You are starting to look appetizing._ Okay. Maybe I liked that one. _Having fun Your Majesty?_ _What the lumps?!_ _Don't worry, I won't let them get you, sweet little gummy prince._ That one almost made me have hope. I should've known better. _NO, it's—wait, it isn't like— I can't wait to go home. Just wait till I'm not chained to you, Gumwad. Glob, it sucks here. Why did I have to be chained to you out of everybody in Aaa? Why should I?_ _Why didn't you think of this, huh? You're supposed to be the smart one._ It all comes around to that.

Forever alone. My eyes tingle. I stop the tears from falling. First rule of being me: _Princes don't cry, Gumball._

* * *

Marshall POV

It's been a month since I saw Gumball. I'm not avoiding him, per say, I'm just—yeah, I'm avoiding him. But it's not like it's just me. Gummy hasn't sought me out, come to boys night, had any more parties…Fi says she's hardly seen him, he's so busy catching up on his royal duties. So he's avoiding me, too.

Lately I haven't been able to sleep. I'll float above my bed and just cannot sleep. I don't think about anything, my mind is blank and my breaths are even. I just can't sleep. Until I think about the scent of bubblegum, and I'm out. I try not to put too much thought into that.

One evening I go to the treehouse. Fionna and Cake are bustling around, looking excited. When they see me they stop. "Marshall!" Fionna exclaims. "Man, perfect timing! Guess wha—Dude, you look like rotten bananas. What's with you?"

I didn't sleep all day, that's what. I refused to think of you-know-who and I suffered for it. Whatever. "What is it, Fi?"

"Oh," she realizes what she'd been excited about. "Gumball's having a gala! It's gonna be big, and elaborate, and he says you can come!"

"Cool," I say. I guess a month is long enough. Maybe I'll be able to sleep now. Behind her Cake is watching me thoughtfully.

"Whatcha lookin' at, kitty?" I call her out.

"Nothing much. I was just thinking how much you look like PG."

I raise an eyebrow and smirk. "What, are you going color blind, Cake?" I laugh. But inside I'm confused by this. What'd she mean? Does Gumbutt look like rotten bananas, too? No, that's ridiculous. Why would he? Cake just shakes her head.

"C'mon, Marshall," says Fionna. "Let's go!"

* * *

When we walk in Fi and Cake dive into the crowds and I float up and start scanning the crowd. I'm not sure what for. This party is much like the last one, but somehow even more decorative, and there's _only_ fancy waltz music, and people are all dressed up.

My eyes stop moving when I see a pink head of hair as well as soft pink skin and an effeminate pink outfit. What the hell? Why was I looking for him? But I still turn invisible and fly closer to him. He's chatting happily with a group of diplomats and people. I don't know what Cake was talking about. He looks fine; he's smiling, and laughing. He has since gotten the cuffs removed. As I get closer, though, my vampire vision starts to pick out little details. There're bags under his eyes, which were carefully covered up. His laughs sometimes sound fake. He isn't looking directly at anyone. When he thinks no one is looking his shoulders will slump, and he just looks hopeless and tired. Glob, how much has he been working?

 _That's not what it is_ , a guilty inner voice says. _Shut up, you_ , I tell it. I need to think about something else. I make myself visible and scout out a pretty girl. I float over to her and start to flirt.

* * *

I'm not sure what this chicks name is, but damn is she determined to get me in bed.

Over the last half hour of talking and dancing she has used nearly every flirting technique I have seen in the last thousand years. She clearly knows who I am, and is determined to get a steamy story outta me for her gal-friends. I can tell already that she'd be a fire-cracker in the sack, and…I don't care. I'm in no way attracted to her. At all. This, oddly, makes her more determined. But maybe she could keep my mind offa—suddenly there is a flash of pink in the corner of my eye.

I glance over to see Gummy heading toward me, with a smile more genuine than any of the ones he'd given those diplomats. My eyes go wide and I have to force this heated feeling down.

Panic. That's what it is. Been a long time since I felt much of that. All I can think of is making sure he knows how very much I don't care. I turn back to the girl and act like she has my full attention. Every few seconds I glance over to see him coming closer. When I'm sure he can see I chuckle, leaning close so my nose brushes against her cheek, and whisper something in her ear.

From my left there is a gasp and the sound of glass breaking on the floor. I whip around. The wine glass he'd been holding is shattered where he'd stood, and he is pushing his way through the crowd away from me. I just stare at him, until he's left the room. What…My chest has a crazy unpleasant tightness to it. I can't breathe and my stomach is heavy. My mind is both whirring and blank at the same time. He…but…

Beside me the girl giggles, "Looks like someone's got a crush on you." That's all it takes. I'm flying, above the crowd, zipping to the door he disappeared through.

I recognize this hall. Far ahead I can hear him gasping, and…sobbing? It sounds like he's running to his room, up in the tallest tower. I continue after, faster, but occasionally taking a wrong turn and so staying behind. In the hallway outside the staircase I catch up to him.

I hurtle into him and pin him to the wall. He shrieks when he feels my hands. I turn him so he faces me and hold him there with my hands on his shoulders. He looks up at my face in disbelief. He's panting hard, sobs wracking his body. There are tears running down his face, making the make-up beneath his eyes run. Glob, he really does look like rotten bananas.

"Gumball?" I plead, my voice strangely desperate.

"Ma-Marshall?" he asks shakily, confused, hopeful, hopeless.

"Gumball," I repeat. I don't know what to say, so I say the obvious. "You're crying."

This seems to make things worse. The tears come even faster, and his face becomes angry. "SHUT UP!" he yells and shoves me. I don't budge. He screws his eyes closed and shrinks away from me. "You—" his voice cracks. "This is all…"

"Gumball," I urge when he stops. "What is it? What's wrong? What did I do? How can I make it better?" He shakes his head.

"Get away from me," he whispers so quietly, so painfully that I feel my dead heart breaking.

"Gumball, no. I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong. I can't fix it otherwise."

He seems to get an extra burst of anger, this time when he shoves me I'm pushed back. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" he screams in fury, the first time he's ever been truly mad at me. This done, he loses any energy and slumps against the wall until he's sitting with his knees pressed to his chest and his face buried in his arms.

Glob, why? I drop down and kneel next to him. Gently I set a hand on his shaking shoulder. "Gumball. Tell me. Please, please, tell me. What should I do? What do you need me to say? Please," I take his face in my other hand and turn his head so I'm looking in his eyes. I see the same thing in them I saw that first morning, and I realize. He's never going to tell me. Ever. He will never admit it to me. He's held it this long, and that won't change. He won't take the chance, the risk. I realize I was wrong. I'd assumed that by being kinky, and being a great actor, he was also strong. I was wrong, though. Maybe, the side he shows the word is somewhat true. He is responsible, and he can be strong at times, but he is also soft and shy, submissive, nervous, and alone. It doesn't matter how miserable he is, he will never tell me. He'll let what we are stay exactly the same, forever, but as it gets time goes by and it becomes more painful for him to see me he'll simply stop seeing me. He'll let me control the relationship, even if that means not having one. Oh, glob.

It's up to me. Do I want him? Or do I want to break him? It's my choice, my move to make. Otherwise nothing will change. Do I want things to change? Do I want this, do I want _him_? Can I deal with _not_ having him and watching him be miserable? What do I do? Why can't he tell me what to do, like he always does?

If I do this there's no going back from it. If I make him mine it'll be forever, and if I change my mind it'll crush him. So the question I should be asking is: do I love him?

I lean forward and take his lips with mine.

I feel him go limp and move one hand from his shoulder to his waist. His moves his hands to my shoulders and sighs. I take advantage and deepen the kiss.

…

…

Glob. This is…glorious. Perfection. This is everything. Why didn't I do this a hundred years ago? His mouth feels warm like home, tastes sweet like love. His lips move softly with mine, the only part of him that is actually working right now. Both our eyes are closed, and he's making this soft, purring, sighing noise in the back of his throat. It's insanely hot. At the same time, I could do only this for the rest of eternity. He doesn't think the same though. Finally gaining some control over his body, he moves his legs away from his chest and wraps them, around my waist. Then he leans back, bringing me on top of him. I can feel how excited he is. I'm probably the same.

The kiss is long and sensual, all the world has disappeared except us. The kiss says everything. No words need be spoken, because this says it. _I love you_ , this kiss says. _You are mine and mine alone,_ this kiss says. _I will be right here forever_ , this kiss says.

Unfortunately, I have to break away so he can breathe. "Don't go," he gasps, or tries to between desperate pants. His eyes open to lock on mine. They are hazed and swollen from crying.

"Well aren't you needy?" I tease and lean forward to lick his sweet, blushing throat. This doesn't help him at all. In reply he wiggles his hips. "Oooh," I moan.

"Mar-Marshall," he stammers. I take my lips from his delectable neck so I can look at him.

"Yeah?" I rumble.

"I—" he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. "I love you."

I grin. That tight, heavy feeling is gone. I feel light, free, and amazingly _attached_ with another life. "I love you, too," I murmur, and realize it's true.

He is amazingly pleased by this statement. He looks down, processes this, and when he looks back his eyes are clearer. "Then perhaps we could move this off the hallway floor to my bedroom?"

With a start I realize where we are. "Oh." I float up, bringing him with me. He unwraps his legs and stands. I take his hand in mine. Just then Peppermint Maid comes up the hallway. She looks at our hands and for the first time is surprised.

"Sir?" she says to my Gummy. "Should I—"

Gummy waves this away with his free hand. "No, Pepper. I've got it."

 _Le Fin_

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know what you think! :)**


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